


Her New Neighbor

by AgentOfShip



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Brain Damage, Cuddles, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Healing, Sick Fic, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 02:32:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18769384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOfShip/pseuds/AgentOfShip
Summary: Jemma thinks her new neighbor is terribly rude for pretty much ignoring her when she says hello. But when she stumbles upon something unexpected, she realizes that maybe he has a very good reason for it.Written for The Spring Fling exchange and the prompt "I'm not OK"Hope you enjoy :)





	Her New Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemon_boie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_boie/gifts).



Jemma's first reaction when she saw him sitting on the floor was a very mean one she regretted almost immediately, and would come to regret even more only a few minutes later. In her defense, she did try to be friendly and welcoming when he first moved into the building three months before. Every time they had crossed paths, she'd given him only bright smiles, friendly hellos, and had even asked polite questions about his day to try and get to know her mysterious new neighbor. All he'd given her in return were various types of nods and intense stares. (He did have intense, admittedly gorgeous, blue eyes.) And the only thing she'd learned about him was that his name was L. Fitz and only because it said so on his mailbox. 

So, even though Jemma didn't usually like to draw conclusions without solid proof, she had decided that L. Fitz was an extremely rude man. Which explained why, when she thought he'd just locked himself out of his apartment, she found it kind of amusing and a sort of karmic payback for his bad attitude, if she believed in these kinds of things. Had he been, not even friendly, but just polite, she would have probably invited him in for tea while he waited for the locksmith or whoever could help him access his flat. 

Fighting all her instincts, she almost managed to pass by him on the way to her flat without saying a word. But when she was only a few feet away from him, Jemma realized there was something wrong that probably had nothing to do with the loss of his keys or something else of the sort. He wasn't simply sitting on the floor. He had his head in his hands and he was shaking all over, like he'd just been pulled out of freezing water, which was, obviously, not the case. 

However impolite he might have been before, he was in a terribly bad state and she just couldn't ignore him now. Taking a few more steps towards him, Jemma cleared her throat before speaking, her voice low and as soft and reassuring as she could muster.

"Is everything alright?" she asked. 

Stupid question obviously but, hopefully, he'd just take it as what she'd meant it to be, an opportunity for him to tell her what was obviously not alright.

His head shot up in surprise. He apparently hadn't noticed her approaching despite the hallway being very quiet. His eyes were as blue and intense as ever but also wet and red-rimmed. He looked at the same time completely exhausted and so very small and young it made Jemma's heart clench. He'd obviously been crying and her instinct was to bend over and take him in her arms. But he looked also bewildered and whatever had put him in such a state might make him react quite badly to unsolicited physical contact or affection. She was about to ask her question again, wondering if he'd even heard it at all the first time, when he lifted his hand. It was shaking even more noticeably than the rest of his body.

"I'm-I'm not-not okay," he said, his voice sounding more like a croak than human.

"Can I help you?"

He let out something that would have been a chuckle if it didn't sound so pained.

"No. too late," he replied, pointing a finger to the side of his head. "B-b-brain d-d—"

"You have brain damage?" she finished for him and he nodded, looking a little grateful. She'd never noticed he was Scottish before but, then again, that was more words than he ever said to her in the three months he'd been there. But now she finally understood why. He wasn't rude, he just couldn't talk. Which of course made her feel awful for drawing too quick a conclusion about someone she knew nothing about. Well, at least now she had actual facts about him she could work with. The shaking, the stuttering and apparent inability to form basic words although he didn't seem to have a problem understanding complex notions, if the science journals he received regularly were anything to go by, it all sounded a lot like—

"Hypoxia?" she asked. He nodded and his expression turned a little less sad and distressed and more curious with his brows furrowed and head tilted to the side. "Doctor," she said by way of an explanation. "Biochemistry. So not my specialty but I know enough to recognize the signs."

He nodded again and gave her a tiny smile. It was weak but it was there so Jemma thought it encouraging. If his condition was what had put him in such a state, there was unfortunately not much she could do now except be a friendly, comforting presence. So she put her handbag on the floor and came to sit next to him. He looked surprised but reciprocated her friendly smile, so Jemma lifted her arm and tentatively put it over his shoulder. Her touch was light, barely there even, and his eyes widened but he didn't push her away. They remained like that for a moment, the trembling of his body making Jemma's heart clench in her chest, until she started gently rubbing circles on his back. Slowly, inch by inch like a careful cat, he leaned into her until he was close enough that she could see the auburn highlights in his sandy blond hair and smell the surprisingly sweet scent of his shampoo. They remained long minutes like this and Jemma would have thought he'd fallen asleep if it wasn't for his hand still shaking a bit. 

"I'm Jemma by the way," she whispered, not wanting to break the relative peacefulness of the moment.

"Fitz." 

She knew that already but it was nice to learn it from him. She'd ask what the L meant later. 

"Nice to meet you, Fitz."

"Nice to-to meet you too."

His voice was still quite small and tired but it wasn't so shaky anymore and there was a warm undertone that made Jemma smile. 

"Jemma?"

"Yes?"

"I smell cookies and f-f-flowers... I'm-I'm not imagining it, yeah?"

"Oh, no!" Jemma exclaimed as she reached for her handbag and took out the paper bag from the bakery across the street out of it. He looked relieved at her answer and she suspected there was a story behind his reaction as well. 

"They're still warm. I just couldn't resist. Do you want one?"

"Oh, no. I-I can't steal your—"

"I'm offering sincerely, Fitz. There's plenty for the both of us and you look like a man in need of a cookie. And maybe a puppy too."

Fitz laughed as he finally, tentatively, extended a shaky hand to grab a cookie from the bag. It was a small laugh but it was soft and sincere and overall a lovely sound. 

They both took a bite and ate in silence for a minute. 

"And what about the flowers?"

"That would be me, I guess. My perfume." 

Jemma smiled, feeling her cheeks grow a little hot at the thought that he'd noticed it.

"It's-it's nice," he said, quickly glancing at her sideways. She bit her lip not to beam too wide at how cute his shyness was.

"Do you want to go home now?"

"Can't," he replied, sounding pained once more as he lifted his still shaking right hand. "C-c-couldn't fit the key in the lock and I p-p-p—"

"Panicked?" 

"Yeah."

"Well, give me your keys then. I can—"

"No!" he cut her off harshly before his face softened once more. "Sorry... I mean it's… nice but I uh…"

"Need to do this on your own?"

He nodded as he let out a big sigh.

"Alright then," she said, winding her arm tighter around his shoulder.

"But you-you don't have to stay. I'll be okay now."

"No. I'm not leaving you alone."

He looked up at her and raised his eyebrows at the determination on her face, but after a moment, he just nodded softly and put his head back on her shoulder. 

In retrospect, the following half hour was probably one of the strangest things Jemma had ever lived. Here was this man she knew nothing about except his last name, and now his injury, and who she'd been thinking very mean things about only minutes ago, and now, she just couldn't imagine doing anything other than holding him close as they waited for the shaking of his hand to stop. Fitz was just a human being in pain and her instinct just told her to help him if she could, even if it simply meant keeping him company as he struggled with the symptoms of his injury. But as both their bodies relaxed and they became strangely comfortable being in each other's arms on the ground, Jemma couldn't help thinking about the few other little things she knew about him that led to more questions than answers. He received very advanced scientific journals and she often heard strange mechanical noises when she walked past his door. He lived alone, didn't leave his apartment very often and she hadn't seen him with anyone since he moved in. So what did he do for a living? What had caused such a terrible injury? Why did no one ever come to see him? She'd assumed that was because he was so rude and grumpy and didn't like people anyway but now, she knew it was a false assumption. He'd accepted her presence and affection so surprisingly easily that it felt like he'd been craving for it for too long. 

Jemma realized that she couldn't ask him all those questions, that it would just sound like her being a nosy neighbor. And she supposed a part of her was just really curious but there was something more. Fitz felt familiar in a way. She had a feeling that the intensity she'd so often noticed in his eyes wasn't simply due to genetics and the mesmerizing shades of blue that seemed to sparkle even in the ugly light of their building's hallway. She felt like, if he managed to express everything that was on his mind, it could be magnificent. 

Jemma knew enough about hypoxia to know that the data was still there in his brain, he just needed to make the connections again. And if he let her, she knew with a disconcerting certainty she would help him.

When his hand had finally stopped shaking, they stood up and shook the pins and needles from their legs as Fitz opened his door. He invited her in and made the most delicious tea Jemma had outside of her house in ages. She shared the rest of her cookies with him and that was the beginning of a new tradition.

-0-0-0-

If Fitz's recovery was complicated, making huge leaps and bounds and equally frustrating steps back, their friendship wasn't. It felt easier and more natural than any relationship Jemma ever had with anyone. It started with long hours talking over tea and cookies after work. Sometimes, Jemma was the only one talking about her day and others, Fitz would talk her ears off about a new idea he'd had or an article he'd read. His speech ability was definitely getting better with time and, even though he hated it because it reminded him of how he'd changed, his slight stuttering on certain words had become as endearing to her as every other aspect of him. She'd learned that he'd relocated to Boston just before his accident and that explained why he had so few visitors. He was an engineer, a very brilliant one even, since his company thought him valuable enough to keep him a on full wage even though he only really worked for them a few hours a day on minor tasks, all from his flat. The rest of the time was spent doing endless speech exercises and working on tiny pieces of electronics to work on his fine motor skills. 

When he wasn't shaking, which was more and more often as he progressed, his movements were so precise and delicate and graceful that Jemma just couldn't look away. Sometimes, they'd spend hours together without talking, just enjoying each other's presence. While Jemma read or typed a report, he worked on his drone project, and, more than once, her mind had been distracted away from her book by the movement of his hands. And sometimes, when Fitz had had a long or complicated day, his silence wasn't quite as peaceful. Not because he didn't want to talk, but because it was just too much of an effort for him. On these days, a single look was enough for her to know and she simply opened her arms to him. Then, they would just hug for a minute, or ten or as long as he needed it to feel better. In return, he always indulged her when they watched a movie and she put her head on his lap. She didn't even had to ask for him to play with her hair anymore. And he never complained either when she fell asleep half an hour into the movie. She even magically woke up tucked into her own bed most times. 

And now, there wasn't a day that passed without her feeling incredibly lucky that she found him sitting on the ground that day and decided to help. He'd become such an integral part of her life that she couldn't even clearly remember what it was like when he was just her grumpy neighbor. Was there really a time when she didn't think he was the sweetest, most brilliant man she'd ever met? 

-0-0-0-

Jemma started taking off her jacket before she was even through the door and didn't bother turning on the lights in the living room as she walked straight to the bathroom.

Today had been a very long day and she was in desperate need of a shower and comfy clothes. After an awfully long and boring meeting with her boss in the morning, she'd finally made a big breakthrough on her current project and she couldn't wait to tell Fitz about it. And combined with the fact that it had been Fitz's first day back full time at his company's office, they'd most likely be talking all evening, long after they'd finished dinner and what would be a reasonable time to go to bed. 

So Jemma really needed to feel refreshed before going to Fitz's. And if he made another one of those slightly awkward but awfully adorable comments about how nice she smelled, well that was just a bonus. 

When she got out of the bathroom, her hair combed but still wet, she quickly put on an old pair of jeans and a loose tank top and picked up her jumper from the back of a chair before changing her mind and putting it back. It was quite warm these days and even if she got cold, she could steal one of Fitz's, which was even better. 

Grabbing her key and phone, she opened the door and took two steps into the hallway before noticing him. Fitz was sitting on the ground next to her door, his head in his hands, not unlike that first time she found him like that months ago.

"Fitz?" she let out, the words getting out of her mouth more as a reflex than as a choice. "What's wrong? Did something happen at work?"

Fitz looked up at her and Jemma breathed a small sigh of relief. He obviously wasn't in such a bad state as he was the last time. He didn't look more tired than anyone going back to work for the first time in months, his eyes were bright as always, not red-rimmed, and he wasn't shaking at all. He gave her a weak little smile before talking.

"Work was good. Perfect even. In fact, it was so good that I thought I could finally do it."

Her brows furrowed in confusion and he chuckled. Whatever was the reason for his current situation, it obviously called for a longer explanation than this. She sat down next to him and looped her arm around his, silently inviting him to keep talking.

"I heard you come home earlier so I came out and was about to knock on your door, but in the meantime I was trying to think of what to tell you and I just-I couldn't find the words. So I-I panicked and I couldn't breathe and I had to-to—"

"Sit down?"

"Yeah."

Of all the things that could make him nervous and trigger a moment of panic, why would it be about talking to her? In the few months they'd been friends, they'd shared so much about each other that, by now, he should know that there was nothing he couldn't tell her.

"Oh, Fitz, I—" 

"Don't worry," he cut her off. "That's-that's-I'm okay now. Mostly. I guess I'm just not ready yet."

"Ready for what?" 

"Ask you out," he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper as he looked up at her for just a second.

"Oh."

Well, that was unexpected. 

Although…

Jemma tried to imagine for a second what it would be like to date Fitz and she found that it really wasn't so hard. They spent more evenings than not together and it was the same for their weekends. Whenever something exciting happened to her, at work or anywhere else, he was the first person she wanted to tell. And they certainly had very little physical boundaries for two people who were strangers to each other only three months before. Jemma looked down and her lips pulled up into a smile. They were in fact so used to each other's presence that she didn't even remember their fingers entwining like that. She looked back up at his soft, beautiful face, his bright blue eyes and his adorably messy curls and her heart did a little flip in her chest.

She didn't want to go on date with him. Now that he made her realize what they could have, she didn't want to wait that long and didn't need the whole getting to know each other part of dating and wanted to skip directly to being in a relationship and in love and all the cuddling and more that came with it. 

But Jemma felt like this was one thing she needed to let him have. She could have argued that he'd already made the first step anyway and that she would have come to the same conclusion soon enough and asked him out herself, but he needed this. His self-confidence was still a fragile thing and he needed the joy and pride that came with having the courage to ask someone out, along with the thrill of having that person say yes.

But if she couldn't answer a question he hadn't asked, she could give him confidence of a different kind. 

Turning slightly towards him, she put the hand that wasn't holding his on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was light and quick and just a promise of what could be but it still sent a thrill down her spine. Before she could move back though, he moved his hand up to hold her neck and pull her into another kiss. She made a small contented noise in the back of her throat when his upper lip parted her lips slightly. His mouth was soft and warm and tasted minty fresh and Jemma couldn't help smiling at the thought that he had, indeed, been feeling rather confident before panic had stopped him. 

She was so entranced by the wonderful sensation of his lips on hers and his hand on her neck sending shivers down her spine that it took a long moment to open her eyes when he broke the kiss. But when she did, he was looking at her with such happiness and adoration that her heart melted.

"Then I'll be waiting for you to ask me," she whispered against his lips and his smile threatened to split his face in two. 

"Now do you want to tell me about your first day at work?"

"I'd love that, yeah."

-0-0-0-

In the end, the question came out almost on its own later that night. After talking each other's ears off about their day, they'd settled on the couch to watch a movie. They'd ended up all cuddled up to each other on one side like they had done so many times, but the way Fitz absentmindedly played with her hair or caressed her bare arm now had a whole new meaning that made her heart beat much faster than it should have considering the absolutely ridiculous, not at all thrilling movie about prehistoric snow sharks they were watching. Which also meant that not a single portion of their brain was necessary to follow the plot and Fitz looked more at peace and rested than she had probably ever seen him. So when she looked up at him with a huge smile on her face because of the joke he'd made about having one more reason to hate skiing, he just said the words as easily as if he'd just said hello.

"Yes," she simply replied and kissed his cheek before winding her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest, just above his heart. She couldn't hear much of the movie anymore that way but what she could hear was infinitely better anyway. Fitz sighed contentedly and pulled her even closer. 

"Jemma?" he asked, his voice rumbling through his chest.

"Yes?"

"I'm very okay now."

"Me too."


End file.
